Dark Clouds
by Liete
Summary: -UK/US- 'You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away.'


**Dark Clouds  
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**By: Liete**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters portrayed.**

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America had changed.

Once upon a time, England would have sworn that he would have liked for America to be more serious. To take life as more than just a joke. That simply _saying_ you wanted to be a hero wasn't enough, that there needed to be action, _real_ action and not just silly ideas, to back up such claims. He hadn't wanted for the fire that was America to be extinguished, replaced by a cold, methodical shell of a person.

He wouldn't deny that it had been a tragedy. He'd watched the news in horror as it had happened, wondering desperately how it was affecting the nation across the sea. He'd had to pull quite a few strings, break a few rules, to arrange for a flight to New York, but he hadn't cared. He would have swam if necessary. When he'd arrived, he found America there at Ground Zero, eyes glazed and staring distantly at nothing. He'd had to work to get America to leave with him, and then he'd spent the day (or night, he'd lost track of time) wiping the dirt and blood away, cradling the nation in his arms and mumbling soothing words against his forehead. Finally America had broken down, and he clung to England and wept for what he had lost.

Then he'd changed. It wasn't about being a hero anymore, it was about revenge. Everything was a threat to homeland security. Paranoia ruled during world meetings, and the only way England was allowed in the country was if he was accompanied by the Prime Minister. Gone was their personal relationship, the one they'd painstakingly built after so many years.

He hated to think that America, the one he'd fallen in love with and who had loved him in return, was truly replaced by that frightening person. Was he dead? Gone with the twin towers? With no trace of affection left for anyone in the world?

When was the last time they'd made love? The last time they'd held each other? No, when was the last time America had even _smiled_ at him? Too long was the answer to all of them. Far too long. His heart ached at times, missing a smile that was warm like sunshine, even at its goofiest.

Another world meeting had ended in an uncomfortable silence, when America's call for action had gone unanswered once again. America had stayed behind to slam his fist against the wall and curse about the lack of concern for the safety of the world. England had lingered behind, as well, until it was just the two of them and America cast a cold glance in his direction before he stalked out of the room.

England, feeling desperate, ran after him. He couldn't just let one of the only things about life that had made him happy be lost forever. He threw himself at America's retreating form, and was relieved that he wasn't immediately thrown off.

"England, I don't have time for this. I-"

"You are my sunshine," England interrupted, the notes ringing low and desperate in his register. He felt America go stiff, nerves tensing, a sharp intake of breath. A song from his people, one he no doubt recognized instantly. "My only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away."

America remained rigid, but England could picture his eyes sliding shut. He nuzzled the tense back as he readjusted himself, missing for once the previously ever present bomber jacket that had been abandoned in favor of too neat pressed suits, and squeezed tighter. He had him now, he didn't plan to lose him.

"The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamt I held you in my arms," he continued to sing softly, thinking about how true it was. How he missed America next to him, mumbling with a drowsy, but still brilliant smile how he wanted England to stop reading and snuggle with him already. He'd always refused at first, but now he'd give anything to have another chance to say yes instantly. "When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken, so I hung my head down and cried."

He saw America's hands clench into fists at his sides and so England slowly, very slowly shifted around so he was in front of America. America's expression was steely, but his eyes flickered desperately down at England for a split second before he stared straight ahead at some nondescript spot on the wall. England cupped America's face, pausing when he flinched, and continued when he once again wasn't thrown against the wall.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray," he sang soothingly, and America's brows furrowed in something that wasn't anger for once as he stared down at England. He carefully pulled America down to brush their foreheads together and America's breath hitched. "You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away."

America's lip quivered for an instant, then he pulled England roughly into his arms and buried his face in his neck. England slowly returned the favor in kind, also wrapping his arms around America and pressing his nose to his neck. He closed his eyes and gently rubbed America's back when the taller form began to tremble, murmuring soothing words once more.

Later, when there was the briefest ghost of a formerly brilliant smile, England knew it would be worth enduring the long, painful road that was ahead.


End file.
